It’s occurred to me to wonder what Cormac McCarthy’s post-apocalyptic novel “The Road” would be like if the two survivors were not a father and son but a mother and daughter. I picture the mother plodding through the ashy landscape, coughing, wishing she had some Kleenex. The daughter sulks and dreams about that cute boy at school. They pause to shoot a marauder. They raid a drugstore for tampons. They trudge on.
There are echoes of my fantasy…
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